


Eight Wonders of the World

by Benedicthiddleston



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Journey, Love, M/M, Pain, Seven Wonders of the World, terminal illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 07:58:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8525101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benedicthiddleston/pseuds/Benedicthiddleston
Summary: It had always been too good to be true. With what little time Chris had left in the world, he chose two things: seeing the world and Zach. They just happened to meld together as he headed for an uncertain future.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wonders of the World](https://archiveofourown.org/works/416133) by [tastyboots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastyboots/pseuds/tastyboots). 



> Please note that this DOES have a sex scene. Which I know is pretty normal for the Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto relationship tag on here. I am no expert however and did my best. 
> 
> And god the angst. THE ANGST!
> 
> I own nothing and nobody. Would I like to marry Chris Pine? Yes, yes I would. 
> 
> I did proofread, but there was no beta. All mistakes are mine.

Zach sighed as he set the keys on the kitchen counter, his fingers flipping through the mail mindlessly as the front door softly shut behind him. He ignored the thirty-plus cups jumbled in the sink and dumped his two coffee canisters from the car into the overflowing mess, his feet continuing to carry him away from all the worries of a dirty kitchen and a weary heart. The mail was pointless, so he dropped it on the coffee table in the living room, eyes scanning the cramped space. The fuzzy throws were gone from their place. The chair was cock-eyed in its corner. The lone cat and two snoozing dogs were nowhere to be seen in their usual places across the love seat and fireplace mantel, and they had not greeted Zach when he had entered the apartment.

They hadn’t actually meant to stay put in Egypt, but after four days in Brazil, a day and a half in Jordan, eight days in China, nine days in Peru, and five days in Mexico, all with extensive traveling integrated into the schedule, Chris had come under the weather. Which meant time was fading away, and they still had two more Wonders of the World to visit. Zach’s heart was hurting, knowing he wanted to give Chris his last wish: to the see the Eight Wonders of the World. They had been out of the United States for almost eight weeks, and the oncologist had given Chris three months at best. That deadline was fast approaching.

When Chris had started complaining of chest pain while visiting the Pyramids, they had gone to the nearest medical center in Cairo as soon as possible. Unfortunately, they had been able to do nothing and Chris had not felt like traveling as planned. The hotel soon morphed into a weekly-rented apartment, and that’s where they had been staying for just over three weeks. It was like a second home to them now. There was a balcony and a fire place (for whatever that was worth), and the neighbors weren’t loud or obnoxious. For being stuck in a foreign country, they were doing pretty well. Well, as best as could be.

Zach walked the short hall past the bathroom and toed the bedroom door open, the large bay windows open and the breeze wafting in. He found the cat lounging on the balcony ledge, the two dogs curled up on Zach’s side of the bed, and the love of his life, Christopher Whitelaw Pine, propped up on pillows and eyes peacefully closed, breathing shallow but easy and unlabored, nasal cannula haphazardly skewed on his pale face. They had all become so accustomed to the hissing noise of the oxygen concentrator that they could sleep through just about anything – go figure.

In the very beginning, Chris had not even realized he was sick. He had a cough now and then, but it did not seem to click that maybe something was _wrong_. A routine physical had shown the golf ball sized tumor in his right lung and the quarter sized tumor in his left lung, a bronchoscopy officially diagnosing stage II non-small cell lung cancer. After four rounds of chemotherapy, the tumors had grown instead of shrunk, the right lung dangerously close to becoming completely obstructed. The oncologist had suggested targeted radiation and further chemotherapy, but a simple blood test and a bone marrow biopsy later showed something even worse. The chemotherapy, in a very short amount of time, had created a secondary cancer: leukemia. Talk about a death sentence before you were even forty.

Picking up the pieces would have been easier, but Chris had said, quite literally, ‘fuck it’, sold his home, slammed a couple of doors on his loving family, and curled up in Zach’s home in Los Angeles. He had then begged to get out of the country, to not die surrounded by what he had been. So Zachary John Quinto picked up the pieces and bought tickets for a journey around the world that very night. Now Chris was in a battle fighting for his last few precious days and hopefully a couple of weeks, oxygen his companion (especially when he got short of breath), his walking limited to short spurts at a time (due to fatigue and lack of oxygen), a wheelchair always within reach.

Zach shooed the two sleepy puppies off of the bed, their forms protesting but quietly and quickly curling up at the foot of the bed. Chris didn’t even wake up as Zach quickly dropped his pants and threw off his two shirts – the slow and tedious button-up and the black straight t-shirt under it – his boxers wrinkled around his hips. The bed creaked, as it always did, with Zach’s weight adding to the mess of tangled limbs, bedsheets, multitude of pillows, and hair – god, the pet hair was a disaster. Add to it Zach’s own hair – slowly wasting away from the stress of his lover hanging between a precarious life and an everlasting death – and they were just two peas in a pod, surviving somehow in damn _Africa_. What was living?

They had two more Wonders of the World to see, but Zach would not push his lover to complete the journey. In a second, he would be willing to pick Chris up and carry him back across the ocean to New York or even Los Angeles; whatever Chris asked of him, Zach would do. And while he knew that Chris desperately wanted to see the world, even in his current state, Zach would not be surprised if Chris decided to go home – especially when Cairo was loud and annoying for the most part and not their cup of tea. How they had managed to settle down for over three weeks near Cairo was beyond Zach’s comprehension.

The one thing Zach knew he needed to do, and quickly, was to get Chris to agree to tying the knot. They had discussed it at length multiple times through-out their tight-lipped relationship as a couple, but Chris had wanted to hold off – between work, the still-serious nature of homosexuality and the public image it would provide, along with his family’s reactions, it was not good timing. But now that Chris was steadfastly headed for the grave, time was of the essence.

 The creaking bed was just loud enough to crack Christopher’s eyes open. “Zach,” he crocked, voice sounding underused and _broken_. Zach felt his heart lodge in his throat.

“Chris. How do you feel?”

Chris turned his head in his mountain of pillows, eyes tired but _awake_. “Why are we still here?”

Zach felt his eyebrows pinch together as he processed just exactly what Christopher was asking. He shifted himself over in bed, lying sideways, his left arm wrapping around Christopher’s waist hidden under a pile of warm and fuzzy blankets. “Well, you have been sick, and traveling could potentially tax you to the extreme.”

Chris took a deep breath, struggling to focus from the chest pain from the shitty cancer eating his lungs and then the leukemia stealing his ability to transport oxygen to his brain. He knew he was fucked. “Gotta see the – the world.”

“I know,” Zach whispered, hugging his boyfriend close. “And whenever you want to go, we can go. I can get tickets in a heartbeat.”

A cold, blue-tinged index finger tapped Zach’s forehead and slid down his face, tracing an invisible line across the majestic cheek bones and around the pursed lips, gently falling to the mattress after a few seconds. “You… you are worried?”

Zach wanted the tension in his body to go away, but no amount of will power was going to assist him now. He had already sent the danger single via telepathic connection to Chris, and that meant all bets were off. “I am worried we will not have enough time together. I – I want us to be together, Chris. But not just like this – two lovers still apart. We need to get married. Because _I need you, Christopher Whitelaw_. I need you,” Zach whispered, tears coming to his eyes. He needed this. He had not asked Chris of anything the entire time he had been sick, but he needed closure. And closure meant a ring on his hand and his last name hyphenated with Quinto and Pine. Time would not allow them to become Pinto – the fans endearing term for their long-lasting friendship turned relationship – but they could at least be joined as one in heart, and by law.

Chris closed his eyes, sighing, seeming to huff out a breath. “Okay, Zach. Okay.”

Zach felt tears run from his eyes as he realized he had been holding them back – for days, weeks, hours, minutes, _seconds_ – he was unsure. He reached a hand up to wipe away Christopher’s own tears.

“Just – just let me finish this journey. And then – then we can get married,” Chris wheezed, fighting for every single word, fighting for every oxygen molecule he could get past the tumors and into the accepting red blood cells circulating his body.

Zach put a finger to Chris’s lips, silencing him. He just let the silence of words hang as Chris breathed fast and with a lot of effort. The minutes passed as Chris finally calmed down, his breathing becoming more even and unlabored.

“Zach…”

“You should sleep, my love.”

Chris’s eyes flashed open, the majestic blue shining in unshed tears. “Marry me in New York City. Take me home.”

Zach knew home for Chris was really back in California, with his sister, nephew, and parents. But Chris was making a choice. And his choice was _Zach_.

* * *

The second Chris had fallen asleep, Zachary Quinto was on the phone with a travel agent, arranging the quickest flights and shortest stays possible for the last two Wonders of the World: The Roman Colosseum in Italy and the grand Taj Mahal in India. It was a skip and a jump of a flight from Egypt to Italy, and then a bit further of a plane ride from Italy to India. But Zach got it scheduled and worked around the difficulty of making sure Chris had all the medical supplies he would need to travel and have the strength to visit both Wonders of the World.

By the end of that day, Zach was tired of using his phone. Their flight had been scheduled for the next afternoon, the pets also taken care of for the flights. In about thirty hours they would be in Italy, in about five days they would be in India, and in just over a week and two days, they would be back home in New York City. Zach had already called to have his apartment aired out and medical supplies to be delivered for Christopher’s needs. And if he could get Chris to agree, maybe a meeting with hospice.

Chris denied pain, but it was obvious on his face. Chris rebelled against having any issues other than his damn lungs, but there was so much more going on than he was actually voicing. And Zach hated it. He wanted to give his lover not only a pain free existence, but a comfortable existence, especially until the end. But Chris was stubborn. He chose his battles – Zach just went along with it all.

* * *

Chris was pretty worn out after the first day of travel, his body weak and exhausted, his eyes barely able to keep open long enough for Zach to tuck him into the Italian bed once they had reached Rome. But he slept all night, his breathing easy and unlabored.

In the morning, he awoke with fresh eyes and an energy he did not know he had in him. Zach got them both dressed, they ate breakfast together, and then Zach wheeled Chris out into the air of the Italian city. Zach got his miles in as he pushed Chris everywhere, seeing the sites, and taking in the views of the Colosseum.

The same story happened on the way to India and then seeing the beautiful majestic Taj Mahal. Chris cried when he saw the Taj Mahal. He was not normally an emotional individual, especially when it came to inanimate objects of affection, but his love for Zach knew no bounds. If he could have, he would have made a grand monument for all the world to know he loved Zach just as much as the representation of the Taj Mahal did to the world. But he would not be able to do such a thing, not with the limited time he had left.

But Chris managed to survive the grueling long flights and endless walking (or, in his case, being wheeled around). The last flight home was from China all the way to New York City. They both slept the majority of the way. But getting home seemed like a relief to Chris. He no longer had to worry about dying in some foreign country. He knew it would make life easier for Zach.

Home was wherever Zach was – that is what Christopher Whitelaw Pine had decided. While he loved his family and hated to do this to them, he had to live his life – what was left of it anyway – being with the one he truly loved with all of his heart. Zachary John Quinto was the love of his life. And Chris knew, even though he had put it off for such a long time, that he needed to marry Zach and hold tight to his sounding board. Because Chris was dying. He had accepted that fact back in Egypt, lying in a foreign bed, struggling to breathe. He would be home now, with Zach at his side, until his body could no longer keep going.

The apartment was the same as it had always been, comfy with a side of spacious. Zach had gone for the double bedroom, grand kitchen, and sweeping living room layout. He had filled his home with memorabilia and thoughtful pieces of art. And of course the animals got their own spoiled mess, with the whole apartment as their playground and sleeping mat. It was no wonder they were glad to be home after the longest trip around the world.

Zach did his best to make it home for Chris in those last few days. Because their time was running out. And time waited for no one.

* * *

They had survived the jet lag and the unpacking, the endless mountains of mail that came flooding in from the post office, and even managed to survive each other – one sleeping constantly, the other running around the apartment like the world was about to end. But Zach had a mission: get someone to do a private wedding ceremony with only two days to spare and who would _not_ tell the world. It was a lot harder than anyone would have managed, but Zach completed his mission with exactly fourteen hours to spare.

Chris was propped up on pillows in the living room, feet being massaged by a local masseuse. It was Zach’s wedding present to Chris – a little early, but Chris had started to describe a loss of feeling in both of his feet and tingling that never seemed to dissipate, from the tip of his toes to his knees. The dogs were loving the attention with a visitor and bugging the crap out of the stranger, giving Chris the giggles for what seemed like _days_ , good god. Zach could barely get anything done while in the same room as his husband-to-be.

Zach, after completing the final phone call at nine that night, collapsed into a heap across from his fiancé, groaning audibly.

“I guess that means we are getting married?”

Zach slowly opened one eyelid, Christopher’s face somewhat blurry due to the lack of contacts or glasses. “We are getting married,” Zach stated matter of fact-ly, promptly closing his eyes in weariness.

The masseuse completed her work, Chris thanking her, and soon it was just the two of them, a temperamental cat of epic proportions, and two wide-eyed puppies that short circuited everyone’s energy – even the dying man’s energy.

They had planned the short, sweet ceremony on the plane home. They had decided to just wear regular clothes, have over Zach’s friend from down the hall in the apartment complex, ship in Katie Pine from California (she was already on her way to New York City that minute) and connect a skype video from California and Pennsylvania into the living room so that the rest of the extended family, both Zach’s and Chris’s, could be a part of the simplistic ceremony. The rings were hidden away in Zach’s dresser, already picked up the day after they had landed from their long journey home. The pets were themselves. In the end, there was really no need for any real pomp and circumstance. They loved each other and that was that. Anything larger would tax Christopher’s energy and make Zach throw something out of the fifth story window in their bedroom. And that would just make a scene.

The wedding was planned for eleven in the morning the next day. The Justice of the Peace was hired and sworn to secrecy. Zach’s friend was super excited, but was an introvert in his own way, so it was unlikely they would spill the beans on the marriage between the iconic reboot couple of Spock and Captain Kirk. And Katie Pine should have already landed at LaGuardia, taking a taxi into the city that very moment.

So they just sat and took in the silence for once. Chris dozed off, head nodding onto his chest. Zach just watched his sleeping lover, knowing that the moments he had now would not last forever. Their time was limited.

The knock at the door jerked Chris awake, his body protesting the sudden movement. “Ouch.” He started hacking pretty good, his nose anxiously trying to suck in oxygen from the nasal cannula as his lungs protested. Usually, during one of Chris’s coughing fits, if his tumor was having a jolly good time fucking with his oxygen levels, his lips would turn a faint blue and then his already cold and pale fingers would also cast a blue hue for all the world to see. Today was no different.

Zach, distracted by the door but concerned at the same time, was already up and off the couch, headed for the door. He opened it to find a frazzled Katherine Pine standing in the hallway, her purse slung up on her right shoulder, an overnight bag in her left hand.

Zach pointed a hand in the direction of the kitchen counter. “Sorry, I have to –“

“ _Zach_.”

It was the first time Zach had _ever_ heard that sound, that frantic plea for help from a respiratory system failing to do its job – the wheezing sort of gasp an asthmatic had to deal with when having an asthma attack or someone experiencing a severe anaphylactic reaction. He turned in time to see Chris try to stand, arms hugging his chest. And then he fell ungracefully.

“CHRIS!” Two voices yelled in unison, four arms reaching for him in an instant, feet pounding across the hardwood floor. Chris had managed to not hit the coffee table on his way down, his body shuddering. Zach was the first to get to him, quick to help Chris back into a sitting position, Katie already in action by finding a nearby inhaler.

Chris clawed at Zach’s chest feebly, his eyes wide with fear. _I do not want to die. Not today. Not before I get married. Oh god, oh god, please don’t let this happen now. PLEASE!_

Katie got the inhaler activated and gave a puff to Chris, her hands trembling. “Thanks for the welcome scare, Christopher.”

He coughed and coughed, but soon he was getting air into his lungs, his hands slowly turning back to a pale white, his body shaking from the adrenaline and exertion and desperate cry for damn _air_. He could not speak for some time, his nose greedily sucking up the pure oxygen from the nasal cannula. Zach was still kneeling in front of him, eyes glistening with tears. He leaned back into his sister, huffing and puffing after almost literally blacking out from lack of oxygen.

“I do my – my best.”

They all managed a weak laugh, not really having the heart to point out that Chris was self-deprecating hard core. Go figure.

More time passed and finally Chris was breathing easily again. Katie sat at one end of the cough while Chris sat in his usual spot and Zach was busy trying to program the coffee maker for the morning. They had said very little to each other since the respiratory distress episode.

Chris sighed, clenching his fists. A lot of things had been left unsaid just prior to his untimely departure from Los Angeles, and his sister had suffered greatly because of it. “I didn’t want any more doctors,” he shared, his voice on the defense.

“I know that Chris. But mom and dad, they are just-“

“I know what they are. And – and I want them to be a part of this. Just like I need you. But they have to know that I am _not_ coming home, to their home. I _am_ home.”

When Chris had left Los Angeles behind all those weeks before, his mind had been on one thing: escape the crippling fear of death and smothering love and kindness from his family. He had been afraid. Afraid of the end. Getting out into the world, seeing the Seven – Eight – Wonders of the World meant he was still _alive_. And all he wanted was Zachary Quinto beside him for that journey. Chris had gotten angry at his parents when they had chastised him for not even trying further treatment. They told him not to travel, and to definitely not go on this crazy, foolhardy journey with Zach, someone who had been his friend and comrade for so many years. Chris had dismissed their worry as non-acceptance of his choice to finally come out as bisexual, along with the fact they thought he could get more time if he just ate this, drank that, even went back for treatment to try to get a bone marrow transplant. But Chris knew, deep inside, that the solution was not as simple as breaking down his body to hope to give him just a little more time. He wanted to _live_ , DAMN IT! (He had already lost his driver’s license in New Zealand. He couldn’t exactly travel the world alone, especially with his tendency to reach for the alcohol. This whole issue was alcoholism waiting to happen.)

Chris also chalked up his parents’ worry to believing he would die in another country, alone and without anyone to love him and bury him properly. When someone you love is given not just one death sentence but _two_ and they hadn’t exactly done anything wrong _in particular_ to get such capital punishment from the damn universe, the first reaction in the Pine household is to surround that person with love. And Chris had seen it before. And he did not want to be the object of that fucking circle. He had experienced death many times in his life. The first real gut-wrenching death had been their friend and comrade Anton Yelchin. For Zach, it had been Leonard and other close family members. And now – now it was Christopher Whitelaw Pine’s turn to give the world something else to cry about.

So Chris had run. Jumped on a plane with the love of his life and ran, the tumors in his lungs and the defective white blood cells in his body a ticking time bomb of the absolute end: death.

Of course, before he ran away forever (or so his parents would assume, of course, when Chris never returned their calls through-out the Wonders of the World journey), Chris righted all of his wrongs and cleaned up his affairs. In the twenty-four hours after being told by his main oncologist that he had, at best, three months to live without any treatment from that point on, Chris had gotten two lawyers involved, tied up loose ends, and finally ended up in Zach’s Los Angeles home, heart heavy and body numb to the coming reality.

That was when the Wonders of the World Journey was born. And when Chris’s parents had tried desperately to dissuade him from going, Chris had turned his back on his family.

Until now. Somewhere along the way, probably while lying sick in Egypt, hoping not to die in a foreign country, Chris had found the strength to face his own death. Something had clicked and told him he needed his family. He was not scared anymore. And the love he had been rejecting for so long would be his. As long as he actually opened up to his family. The second they had landed in New York City, Christopher’s out of breath voice was on the phone, mumbling that while he was not dead _yet_ , he was going to die in Zach’s arms, as Zach’s husband.

And that was what had lead them to right then, with Katie beside him, Zach in the kitchen being a dick and flustering over mini details, and a wedding set for the morning. While the respiratory distress had certainly given them all a scare, things were going to be okay. Chris knew it. Even as he knew he was dying. And soon.

* * *

Chris couldn’t really stand for the whole ceremony due to his increased weakness and decrease in oxygen capacity, so Zach had declared the entire wedding a sit-down event. The Justice of the Peace would sit on a stool near the living room floor-to-ceiling window while Katie and Zach’s friend would sit on the love seat that had been angled away from the kitchen so that there would be room enough for the two dining room chairs to sit side-by-side in front of the Justice of the Peace.

Peter, one of the bellhops from the apartment complex, was working on the skype connections, making sure that the Pine family in California and the Quinto family in Pennsylvania were able to hear and see the main event. The bickering from _both_ ends was giving him a headache.

Katie, the ever-present sister and keeper of the rings, was busy making sure the double grooms did not see each other before saying their vows. Chris was not happy, the frustration in his voice evident as Katie half-carried, half hauled her brother from the guest room into the living room.

“But I want to see Zach,” he huffed, coughing on his words. He had been arguing with her for almost fifteen minutes, his breathing becoming winded. Getting up, showering, and dressing that morning had felt like a losing battle, but Chris had done it. Now he felt like he could sleep for days, but he had to see Zach; had to _marry_ Zach, for goodness sakes. He wanted to see Zach, damn it, and his own sister was keeping him from getting to their bedroom.

Katie sat her brother down on the chair on the right, re-arranging his nasal cannula and discreetly hiding the rest of the tubing away from the camera. “No. Not until the ceremony. The Justice of the Peace is-“

“Here!” Peter called, his hand on the small of the back of a black-robed short woman with thin-rimmed gold glasses and a gigantic portfolio in her arms.

“Which one is Mr. Zachary Quinto?” the woman asked, her lips pursed in a straight, unyielding line.

Chris wanted to pout. “In the bedroom. I-“

Katie shushed him, standing from her kneeling spot beside her brother. “I can lead you to him. Come with me.”

Peter grinned, his attention immediately back on the skype connection. He had contacted both families and they were ready on their end, waiting anxiously for this spontaneous event to come and go. Now they just needed the second groom-to-be.  

A few minutes passed, Chris fumbling with the last button on his dress shirt. They had both agreed on regular clothes because of the short notice, but Chris had still wanted to look _nice_. He might be dying, he might be on continuous oxygen, and he might look like a pale, thin piece of white paper, but he would be damned if he could not look good for the love of his life. _Zach. Oh Zach_.

There was a small thunk down the hall, but soon the Justice of the Peace was walking back into the living room, her large portfolio mysteriously gone. She took her seat on the stool, hands folded neatly in her lap.

Chris turned just in time for Katie to come down the hall, the man of the hour behind her.

Zach was everything Chris could have imagined. Zach, always the charmer, had managed to find a suit – a _damn suit, that bastard!_ – that seemed to bring out the bright brown in his eyes. And the tie – _oh my god_ – was the _exact_ color of Christopher’s eyes. That one shade of blue everyone was always so mystified by, that gorgeous stunning cerulean. It stole Chris’s breath away, seeing the love of his life, the love of his _soul_ , wearing such an exquisite outfit. Screw the fact they had said they would wear regular clothes and all Chris was wearing was a nice plaid button-up shirt that was also blue with white. But Zach – god, Chris had fallen in love all over again. And he hoped to do it again and again and again for all the days of his life – whatever that number may be.

Zach’s friend sat on the love seat, smiling and enjoying the scene. Katie walked behind her brother, patting his head. She took her own seat next to Zach’s friend, her fingers twirling two simple silver wedding bands.

Zach finally made it to the chair to the left, settling into it, his legs angled toward Chris. He reached for Christopher’s hands, placing them gently in his own. Their pale complex seemed even more white-washed from the strength and tanned color Zach’s own hands brought to the pair. Chris, who hadn’t even noticed the color of their hands, was looking at Zach’s eyes instead, a smile on his bright face. 

Everyone was ready.

 Chris turned slightly, resting his head on Zach’s right shoulder. He was ready. Ready to marry the very man who had given him hope for so long, given him a reason to live, and would be there until the day Chris had to give up his soul to whatever was waiting past this life. He was content.

The Justice of the Peace cleared her throat and began.

“We are gathered today to bring together two fine gentleman under the law of marriage. If you have any personal vows you would like to recite at this time, gentleman, please go ahead.”

Sometime in the middle of the night, the question had come up on who was going first. And after three rounds of rock paper scissors lizard Spock and another five rounds of flipping a penny, Chris had conceded to Zach going first. Zach had, of course, beaten Chris at rock paper scissors lizard Spock by always playing Spock. Chris should have figured that one out quicker than he had lost.

Nothing had been written down and they both knew they were basically winging their wedding vows. But neither of them cared, because it all came from the heart. And that is exactly where Zach started.

He felt a sob in his chest before he had even started, but Zach held it together, turning his head to kiss Chris’s head on his shoulder. “To my Christopher, I give you my entire heart. From the moment I saw you that very first time all those years ago until the sun sets on your last breath, I will always love you. We have been through hardship and triumph. We succeeded in our careers together and ran away with foolhardy ideas as we have grown up. But we cannot be parted, just like Kirk and Spock cannot be far away for long. I do not marry you because you are ill. I give you my body, my soul, and my endearing love for your everlasting joy. I marry you today because I could not love another person with as much passion or hope as the one and only Christopher Whitelaw Pine. Through thick and thin, through whatever is before us, through the last of your precious days, I will be right beside you. For I love you, Chris. I have always loved you.” Zach was whispering towards the end of his vows, a hand reaching up to cup Chris’s cheek. He found it wet, Chris struggling to breathe around snot, tears, and a clogging nasal cannula.

Katie was quick to pass over a new nasal cannula and a whole box of tissues, her hands busy but gentle and kind. She had her own tears on her cheeks. It seemed everyone was going to be crying today.

Once Chris was able to breathe again and everyone had seemed to recover, Zach gently squeezed his lover’s hands, giving him the okay to tell his own story. Because vows were not just promises for marriage or the life they would lead together, but how they came together and what melded them together into one entity.

Chris closed his eyes, looking inward for strength to speak and breathe and be all the love he needed to be for Zach. With a deep breath, he started to speak.

“I remember when we were filming _Star Trek Into Darkness_ , and the pain on your face while watching Kirk – myself – die, broke my entire being. I knew then like I know now how much I love you, Zachary. Just because today I am closer to death then when I was at that point in time means little in the space of time my heart has yearned for you. No matter what happens to me, I will always be with you. I will always love you, from the first word to the very last breath. You hold me up when I can no longer stand on my own two feet. When you – when you threw punches at the turn of my diagnosis and again when I was given my short time, you were strong. My sounding board, the one who was going to stick with me through the worst of the pain, the worst –“ Chris coughed, his chest aching. “The worst of the breathing. Thank you for all that you are, for your sacrifices to help me obtain peace. I could not be here without you. I – I love you so very much, Zachary John Quinto.”

Whether it was intentional or not, Chris seemed to go limp in his chair, his breathing labored. Zach pulled his dying betrothed into his lap and held him. The room was silent for a few minutes as Zach whispered sweet nothings into Chris’s ear.

Finally, Chris seemed to have gotten back strength and his eyes were open and staring longingly at Zach’s beautiful face.

Zach nodded and the Justice of the Peace continued.

“The rings, please.”

Katie handed them over, Zach grasping them in his right hand.

“Do you both agree that on this day, at this appointed time, you are to be wedded and legally seen as one entity under the state of New York? Do you both agree to the exchanging of rings as promise of your unity?”

Zach quietly slipped one of the silver band on Chris’s left ring finger, nodding in agreement. “I do.” His voice sounded so broken, the tears streaming down his face.

Chris took the second silver band from Zach’s hand and haphazardly got the ring onto Zach’s own left ring finger. He choked out, “I do.” And then buried his face in Zach’s chest, his breathing once again picking up.

“Then by the power of myself, Colleen Parish, Justice of the Peace of New York City district, and by the state of New York, I pronounce you both husband and husband.”

Applause came from the skype connection and from Katie, Peter, and Zach’s friend.

And in the middle of it all, Zach held his new husband close, kissing the side of his head, his neck, whatever he could get to as Chris cried and Zach felt his chest constrict in both weary happiness and weary regret. He had Chris – in enough time to lose him to fucking _cancer_.

God. Damn. It.

* * *

Immediately after the ceremony, the happy couple waved love to their families and went to take a celebratory – wait for it – nap. Chris was exhausted and needed time away from the commotion. They, of course, signed the marriage license before being whisked off to their bedroom, finally able to signify their actual true and legal wedded status.

This gave time for Katie to clean up and allow the minimum of guests disappear out into the world. But this also gave her time to contemplate her brother and the life he was having to battle. Lung cancer, unexpected leukemia, a limited life expectancy due to the first two issues, and above all, falling head-over-heels in love with Zachary Quinto, the one who had dropped in as Spock and came out the stronghold for Chris’s end.

She felt the tears, knew they were coming. She had held back for so long. Knowing her brother and the resolve he had to keep it all together when the end was so near – Katie felt the loss. Her heart was already broken. She had tried to keep him from running away with Zach – for her own selfish reasons. But in the end, this is what her brother needed. After a hard life fighting stereotype after stereotype, overcoming the cliff of Hollywood and staying true to himself and his privacy, Chris was tired. She could see it in his eyes – every day, he was worn out, waiting for the end. It was not just his illness taking him down – it was the weariness of the job, the life he had had, and now the burden of Zach all wrapped up into one downtrodden package. But she knew now that he could slip away peacefully, in the arms of the strongest, most loving man he deserved.

She was _happy_ for them both. The ache was not going to go away anytime soon. She had dug herself that pit, watching her brother fade away.

She curled up on the couch and cried for the rest of the afternoon, mourning everything behind them and what was surely to come ahead.

* * *

Their bedroom was a sanctuary that evening after everything was said and done. Chris awoke to a hand on his stomach and a pair of gorgeous brown eyes staring at him.

“Hi.”

Zach smiled, leaning in for a kiss.

Chris yearned for it, meeting his new husband in the middle. It tasted _so good._

“I love you,” Chris said as their lips parted.

“I love you more,” Zach giggled, moving closer to his lover in bed. “I could just eat you up right now.”

Chris laughed and coughed at the same time, all while Zach dipped and slithered below the sheets. He nipped at Chris’s navel with his teeth, eliciting a wheezy, playful gasp from Chris. In all but a few seconds, Zach had gently pulled off Christopher’s boxers, his mouth continuing to nibble and lick as he headed further south.

Chris continued to giggle, not-really-shouting for Zach to stop, but it wasn’t really in all that serious tone of voice. He reached under the sheets, blindly searching for Zach’s head.

“Zach, come on. I’m not even remotely –“ Chris stopped short as Zach took his tongue to the sensitive areas on Chris’s inner thighs, the slow slick making Chris groan in pleasure.

Zach didn’t even say a word as he continued to lick up and down the sensitive spots of Christopher’s thighs, groin, and perineal area. This, of course, gave the intended a rapidly aroused cock, the length slowly rising from both pleasure and excitement.

“God, Zach. We haven’t tried this since I went on oxygen,” Chris breathed, his hands stroking Zach’s hair in slow, soothing movements. In the back of his mind he knew he should not – could not – have any sorts of fuck sessions with Zach now, especially in his fragile state. But it was their wedding night for goodness gracious sakes and if Chris was going to die soon, might as well get in a good love session with his husband.

The licking stopped and Zach’s head peeped out from under the edge of the sheet. “Don’t worry, babe, I will do all the work. You just relax and enjoy the ride.”

They had had sex many times before - but nothing like this. Chris, naturally, was still worried. But he ignored the worry. He wanted to just live, damn it.

“If I’mma gonna die, Zachary Quinto-Pine, I want your damn cock filling me up and making me satiated so that I go out with a bang.”

Zach playfully rolled his eyes before disappearing once again. It was muffled, but Chris still heard, “Pretty sure our sex won’t kill you – but I can bet you it will be mind fucking blowing.”

Before Chris could protest or utter another word, Zach had swallowed Christopher’s manhood in one complete motion.

Chris made a strangled squeal as Zach started to work his magic. Zach’s tongue went up, down, and all around; slow at first and then quicker, with more urgency. Chris was pretty certain he was going to come in Zach’s mouth, and that had only happened once in their entire relationship. Heck, he was going to come just by Zach’s tongue alone, holy shit! It was only seconds later that Chris gripped Zach’s hair in his fingers and he let out a single gasp as the orgasm hit him full on. It was pure bliss for him as a whole, but his lungs felt the torture. In the end, Chris Pine _did not care_.

Zach released after swallowing every drip Chris could pour out. When he emerged from down under, his lips were swollen and plump, upturned in a happy smile. His eyes shown bright, twinkling with love and admiration.

“Had enough?”

Chris laughed, resting his head back against his mountain of pillows. “Not – not yet. No. I need you inside of me, Zachary. I need you inside me.”

Zach pulled himself up into a sitting position, his boxers on, but his package obviously bulging. “If I do this, you have to promise to tell me when you aren’t okay in any way – especially if you can’t breathe or it hurts too much.”

“Yes, Mr. Sensitive,” Chris crooned, his hands already reaching to help Zach divulge of his clothing.

Zach snatched Chris’s hands away from their objective and kissed them, holding them longingly. “Hold on, love. Do you want to stay propped up like you currently are or do you want to be flat on one pillow, your legs around my waist?” He just wanted Chris’s happiness, safety, and comfort. Especially when Chris had enough to be in pain about, he did not need painful sexual intercourse.

Chris sighed, but did not verbalize his choice. Instead, he reached behind his head and removed a pillow, where he promptly threw it off to the side. He did the same to a second and a third pillow. In the end, he was left with a single pillow under his head and about four pillows on the ground beside the bed. He really liked his pillows. He scooted so that his back was flat on the bed and his ass nudging up near Zach’s form. He was ready.

“I’m ready.”

Zach smirked. “Almost.”

For as long as Zach could remember, he had kept high quality lube and fruity condoms in his bedside table for every one-night stand and every sexual encounter through-out his life. Never in his life could he imagine that tonight, his wedding night, he would be pulling them out to give pleasure to his dying husband, Mr. Christopher Whitelaw Pine-Quinto.

So, he slipped off the bed, much to Christopher’s protests, and Zach went to the bathroom, pausing only momentarily to grab two towels before heading back to his bedside table to grab the condoms and lube. He threw all of the items onto the empty side of the bed and leaned in to kiss his husband before getting back into bed.

Chris pouted, hands splayed across his naval. “Zach, stop teasing.”

Zach just smiled after the kiss, making a huge show of sticking his fingers under the band of his boxers and slowly pulling them down over his already erect penis. He moved sensually as he climbed on top of Chris, planting his lover’s face with kiss after kiss after kiss. Zach moved into Christopher’s space and gently slid under his legs so that Zach was seated on the bed with only a little adjustment to be able to enter Chris with little trouble. This meant Chris had his legs at Zach’s side, and when it was time, he would be able to hug Zach with his legs.

Zach’s entire focus switched to making sure the coming experience was pleasurable for his lover, especially since he had that foreboding feeling in the back of his mind that this would be their first and _only_ time as a married couple to become one in a physical sense. He knew Chris was losing the battle. Zach just needed to continue to persevere.

There was silence through-out the room as Zach picked up the tube of lube and smeared some onto his right index finger. He was ever so gentle as he spread Chris’s legs further and found that beautiful entrance. He slowly put his finger in, Chris not making a sound. Chris didn’t react when Zach placed a second finger, or even when he placed a third. Zach could tell Chris was relaxed, his breathing easy, unlabored, under control.

As Zach started his ministrations, Chris moaned. Everything about the situation felt so _wrong_ but also so very, very right. Zach worked for a few minutes, just setting a quiet, easy pace, rocking them both and taking in the peace.

Finally, Zach pulled his fingers from Christopher’s rectum and Chris moaned again. “Please, Zach. Please get into me. I need to –“ Chris’s hands twisted into the sheets, his head lolling to the side. “I need you.”

Zach leaned down enough to kiss Chris’s abdomen, sending butterfly kisses towards his beautiful one’s mouth. He distracted Chris this way as he deftly placed a condom on his own aching cock and lubed up for a smooth and comfortable ride. He carefully positioned themselves, aligned perfectly, and entered into Chris. A few seconds passed as he slowly advanced forward until he was fully anchored into Chris.

Chris had _no_ poker face whatsoever to speak of and his eyes had rolled back in his head in pure bliss and ecstasy at the feeling of fullness from Zach’s beautiful length. “Thank you, thank you, _thank you_ ,” Chris breathed, eyelashes fluttering.

Zach was slow at first, rocking them back and forth, and then he picked up the pace, setting a steady pace as he humped into his lover, fucking him with all the pleasure and love he could possibly possess. He kept his promise – he did all the work himself, making sure Chris just laid there and took it, a reward for lasting so long and fighting so hard. It came down to this. This completion and this connection.

Minutes went by until Zach felt he could no longer contain himself. His feather light touch against Chris’s hips stiffened as his body accepted the orgasm spreading through him like a wildfire. “I love you, Christopher Whitelaw Pine-Quinto,” Zach said in one breath as his own body went rigid from the intense orgasm, his come spilling into Chris.

Chris had a smile on his face as Zach completed inside of him, his right hand clutching the sheet and his left hand touching his left cheek.

As Zach felt the last of his release empty inside of his lover, he sighed gratefully. He bent down and nuzzled his husband’s naval once again. Reaching over without a sound, Zach grabbed a towel to help minimize the soiling of the sheets when he pulled out. With a single moment of regret, Zach slid from his lover and dabbed at the mess that followed.

Chris lay complete pliant on the bed, limp but still breathing. He didn’t say a word as Zach gently slid from the bed to clean up.

A few minutes passed and Zach had redressed into his boxers before climbing back into bed. Chris was still in his splayed out position, breathing even and unlabored, nasal cannula giving him the oxygen he so desperately needed. Zach curled himself around Chris, and kissed his ear.

Chris, still drowsy from the high, gently leaned into Zach and fell into a peaceful sleep. Zach was content just watching his new husband sleep without a care in the world.  

* * *

Zach had known since their wedding four days before that Chris was fast approaching eternity. It had been a joyous time together, relaxing in each other’s presence and giving each other all the love they needed. Zach and Chris had made the decision to let the world know about their union through their respective agents, along with the crushing news that the world was probably not ready to hear: that Chris was dying from not just one deadly cancer, but two deadly cancers. The article that Zach somehow kept up on his phone twenty-four seven stated at the very end that Zach and Chris were happily married and living in New York City, living out the last few days of Chris Pine’s remarkable life. For some reason, that line struck a heart string within Zach and he tried very hard to not cry around Chris every fucking time they were near each other.

Now Chris was steadily declining, needing even more oxygen, in bed for far much longer periods of time, barely able to go to the bathroom on his own. Zach had begged for at least a hospice nurse consult, anything to help him out, but Chris – the perfect, stupid idiot – refused vehemently. He denied pain (even though his face betrayed him most of the time), and was determined to stay walking, talking, and continent until the end. Zach was, logically, very worried. Especially since Zach was not a care giver of any kind.

As Chris declined, he requested to talk with his family, all those miles away. The conversations were bittersweet memories, regrets, sorrows, joy, and laughter. Everything that Zach needed and was scared of all at the same time.

* * *

Zach knew about the phenomenon called The Last Good Day. And when he looked back on Christopher’s last days, he could pin-point it perfectly. However, when it was actually happening, he just thought he was having sweet moments with the love of his life and newly minted husband.

Chris had been feeling up to an excursion, so they had packed minimally and gone to the beach. It was mildly chilly, but Chris’s temp hadn’t dropped below 100.4 Fahrenheit in two days, so it honestly felt good to not feel so warm all day.

Chris was too weak to walk, so Zach carried the stuff and set up their spot before carrying his significant other to the blanket spread out. There were also chocolate chip cookies and a tiny bit of whiskey in a thermos.

They just sat and watched kids play and the waves roll gracefully in and out, and they soaked up the sun.

Chris had been active and talking – awake and vibrant, all sorts of philosophies and ideas running through his brain. Zach took it all in, loving his brilliant lover’s mind. They showed each other love in small ways that day – kisses, hand holding, toe mingling, and even cuddling at times. They even took a small nap at one point.

Towards the late afternoon, Zach had Chris snuggled in his lap, Christopher’s head tucked into the crook of his neck. Chris’s breathing was shallow but even and unlabored. He’d had a small amount of alcohol, but nothing damning for his system. Now they had grown quiet, somewhat contemplative.

Randomly, Chris giggled and reached a hand up to cup Zach’s face. “You look good being all mysterious.”

Zach purred and smiled, leaning in for a kiss. “Is that so?” He kissed softly and slowly, with no worries or hurry of the world or what was going on around them.

Chris settled, his hand slipping effortlessly from Zach’s face. He continued to smile, eyes powerfully blue. “It will always be true.

“It has been a wonderful day, my love. I feel – I feel good. Just good.”

Zach hugged Chris as close as possible. “Then I am happy.”

The silence settled between them. Zach couldn’t keep his eyes off Chris, watching eyes flutter and smiles waver, but grow and shine anyway. Chris finally broke the silence with a whisper, sleepiness noted in his voice.

“Thank you, Zach.”

For some reason Zach felt an empty sadness at those words. Zach would not pin point the concern until much, much later.

“Anytime, Chris. Anytime.”

Those big, beautiful blue eyes fluttered and then Chris was asleep, his battle with fatigue and weakness waning, his bone deep weariness winning out.

Zach didn’t know how long they just sat there. He lost track.

The sun had started to set by the time Zach even thought about heading home. Plus, Chris was _heavy_.

“Chris.”

Nothing.

“Chris.”

Nothing.

“Christopher.” Stern, more forceful.

Zach felt his chest constrict.

“Come on love, we gotta go home,” he said loudly, trying hard to not come off as a worry wort.

When still no reaction or response from Chris, Zach leaned forward, trying to use movement to wake Chris up. Unfortunately, it did not work.

“CHRIS!” Zach felt nauseous, quickly feeling for a pulse on Chris’s neck. It was there, steady and regular. Chris’s chest rose and fell, breathing continuing to be normal and regular. Chris was compliant in Zach’s arms – no fluttering of eyes, no moving, no voicing retorts or sleepy responses. Chris was unresponsive. He just was not waking up.

Zach internally panicked. He knew it wasn’t good that Chris wasn’t waking up. It meant the end was imminent.

So he did what he knew to do: packed up their things, carried Chris to the car, and drove home as fast as possible.

Once they were home, Zach tucked his sleeping, unconscious-unresponsive, beautiful love of his life into bed and called the hospice nurse help line that he had gotten way back when from the oncologist.

With a few questions from the hospice nurse, Zach’s worst gut-wrenching fear had come to fruit – Chris was actively headed towards permanent sleep. He wasn’t awaking to any stimuli, and Zach remembered that Chris hadn’t actually pooped in three days and hadn’t peed since early that morning. His body had started to shut down. When Zach touched Chris’s arm or any part of his body, he was hot to the touch. But even sleeping, Chris showed no pain or discomfort and was in no respiratory distress. The nasal cannula almost seemed pointless, but Zach knew it would mean a far more peaceful death to keep it in place than to starve Chris of much-needed oxygen.

Zach took dedicated notes from the nurse that evening and set them aside, knowing that while Chris would not follow all of the signs of actively dying, he had already started declining rapidly and would show signs of impending death sooner rather than later. He shot a couple of texts to immediate family members - Christopher’s sister and parents, his own mother and brother. He then undressed slowly, eyes always on his dying, fragile husband.

He crawled into bed bedside his beloved and placed a hand on Chris’s chest, the rise and fall still evident. The sun had long disappeared out of the sky, clouds moving in, and the moon unseen. Zach was left alone in the room with the faint glow of Christopher’s damn lava lamp. Even the pets were quiet, all huddled at the foot of the bed on the ground. They knew something was wrong. Pets could feel grief. It would be bad when Chris finally slipped away.

_Damn that lamp_.

Zach hated the lava lamp. But he couldn’t part with it. Not – not yet, anyway. All he could do now was be a presence for his dying partner. Be near, bring comfort, keep them both clean and dry and comfortable, and speak memories and devotion. Zach wholeheartedly believed that hearing was the last sense to fade as the body made its finale journey.

He fell asleep with Chris still breathing.

* * *

Two nights later, Zach awoke for a reason he could not understand. He was usually a pretty good sleeper through the night. He squeezed Chris’s hand and turned towards his unconscious beauty sleeping beside him.

Chris’s breathing had become irregular during the evening hours and was now a shallow breath every few seconds. The time for Chris’s soul to slip away was coming.

Zach placed his head next to Chris’s and just started to talk about anything and everything, tears coming to his eyes.

“From that first moment I saw you, through-out filming of our first movie together – I knew there was something about you I liked. You had an infectious spirit. You knew I was gay and had no ill will about it. You accepted me for who I was. We were a strong pair as Spock and Kirk. We had it made, Chris. We had it made.

“And then I came out and you still stood by me. And we continued our work as crazy heart-driven actors, always striving for more. You stood by me when the going got tough. I appreciated your thoughtfulness, your humor, and your vocabulary more than you can ever know, Chris. You got me through some difficult times.

“We did four Star Trek movies together, and I swear, after the third one, I knew who I wanted more than anything else. I wanted _you_ , Chris. But we both knew it wasn’t time. Then life took over before we started filming number four and we drifted.

“But then that fourth film came out and three weeks after the press tour ended you texted me that a – and I use your words here, buster – a ‘gigantic’ tumor had been found in one of your lungs, with a proceeding smaller tumor noted in the other lung. And I knew, without a doubt, that I had to marry you.

“I held your hand through treatments. I held your hand through vomit and tests and drug-induced delirium. I made sure you ate and continued to eat, even when the going got tough. I texted you, called you, and video chatted with you so many times I think I went over my bill five times in those few short weeks.

“And then the pendulum broke on us, Chris. I came back to Los Angeles hoping for some good news from the chemotherapy, and the bad news came instead. You were curled up on my couch looking like the world had ended. I was for certain it had ended when you gave me the doctor’s prognosis of three months.”

Zach stopped mid-conversation, sniffling as his nose dripped. He choked, hating everything and everyone. Chris was about to _die_ , DAMN IT! But he swallowed down a lump and turned his head, kissing his lover on the ear and then forehead.

“Three months. You outlasted that, Chris. You made it past that dumb timeline. We got you to see the world and the Eight Wonders of the World. And then – then you married me, Christopher Whitelaw Pine-Quinto. You said ‘I do’, and we haven’t looked back.”

Zach was crying harder then, his tears falling without reservation. He gently placed a hand on Chris’s chest and felt the rise and fall of war-torn lungs and broken blood cells. But he knew, in his heart, that this was how it was going to end. And then –

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Chris no longer drew breath.

There was no more rise and fall of the chest. Zach didn’t even try to elicit a response from the quiet form beside him. The oxygen continued to hiss, doing its job as it should.

And Zach – he sobbed, hands finding Chris’s clothing and gripping his lover tight. “I loved you so, so, so, so, so much, Christopher. Through the good and the bad. Oh God, you are gone now. You were so loved. I will miss you. Please, Chris, I – I love you. I loved you!”

Silence was all that greeted Zach. His heart broke. The love of his life – was gone. The tears did not stop. Hope was lost.

END

 

 

 

 


End file.
